


Honeymoon Troubles

by DawnDust



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Attempt at Humor, David Rose Loves Patrick Brewer, David Rose is an Artist!, Episode: s07e01 The Honeymoon, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Patrick Brewer loves David Rose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 17:26:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28960182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DawnDust/pseuds/DawnDust
Summary: Patrick gears up to tell David that they have to postpone their honeymoon again. His announcement doesn't go as planned.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 30
Kudos: 115
Collections: Schitt's Creek Season 7





	Honeymoon Troubles

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [SCSeason7](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/SCSeason7) collection. 



> **Prompt:** 7x01 - Patrick's been saving in order to buy them a house, so he doesn't have much to spare for a honeymoon. But it turns out he's not the only one who's been planning for their future: David has also been putting away money to give them the honeymoon of their [somewhat modest] dreams.
> 
> Shout out to [FrizzleNox](https://frizzlenox.tumblr.com/) for being a wonderful beta!
> 
> CONTENT WARNING: Mentions of stripping/strip clubs

________________________

Patrick threw his calculator back onto the desk and shoved his face into his hands. He was such a fucking idiot. He’d run the numbers three separate times, and there was no way he could come up with enough money to take David on their honeymoon, not without dipping into their savings. Not this month, and definitely not without putting their house in jeopardy. 

The house in question was one of the main reasons for this problem. Patrick had been saving up for it for a while, but their monthly mortgage payments were higher than he had expected, leaving them on a tight budget. The house payments combined with the much-needed renovations, a small fire at the store (courtesy of Roland), and a recent dip in sales had led to them going way too far above their budget this month. 

Patrick had promised David that they’d go on their honeymoon within six months of their wedding. That didn’t seem possible anymore, and he wasn’t sure how he was going to break the news to him. 

He sighed and decided to run the numbers one more time. Maybe they could boost their sales for the next of couple weeks? Offer more in-store community events? Maybe he could take up work for a few nights at that gentlemen’s club on the outskirts of town that Bob was always talking about? He may not be the best dancer, with his “tree trunk legs” as David always put it, but Cabaret _had_ taught him a thing or two.

This was where David found him an hour later, hunched over his laptop, looking for job openings at the Hardy Elm. 

“Patrick?” David asked, looking at him with concern. “Have you seriously not moved since I left to get us dinner?” Dinner! If they cooked at home instead of buying take-out, they could probably increase their savings by-

“Helloo??”

“What, David?” Patrick snapped, spinning around in his chair to glare at his husband. Said husband threw up his hands and backed away. 

“Um, there is zero need for _that_ hostility, I was literally just bringing you dinner.” David looked even more concerned now. “What’s wrong with you? Are you just hangry?”

“No, I’m just busy.” 

“Okay, but you’ve been sitting there for literal hours. What’s going on?” David’s eyes widened and he took a step forward to grab Patrick’s shoulders. “Is the store in trouble? Are we going bankrupt? Patrick, you _promised_ you’d tell me if we went bankrupt.”

Oh no. Now Patrick had both snapped at his husband and freaked him out for no reason. He put his hand on David’s arm reassuringly and said, “David, the store isn’t going bankrupt. We’re not doing the best right now, but we’ll pull through.”

“Then what the fuck is going on?” David shook him off and gestured wildly at his clothes. “Look at you! It’s almost nine, and you’re still dressed in your little business shirt and pants!” Patrick looked down. So he was.

He sighed. “Let’s just talk about this over dinner.” He got up and picked up the take-out bag that David had placed on his desk.

David was still standing there, gaping at him. “Okay, so _this_ is serious enough for it to be a dinner talk?” 

“David, everything’s fine, I’m just hungry and want to eat something first.” He wasn’t actually hungry, but David tended to be more amicable once he had food in his belly, and Patrick wanted this conversation to go as smoothly as possible. David pursed his lips, clearly still overthinking this, but acquiesced. 

  
  


Once they’d settled down and eaten a good portion of their food, Patrick decided to rip the band-aid off. He waited until David had taken a big bite of his noodles, and said, “David, I’m really sorry, but I don’t think we’ll be able to go on our honeymoon next month. Probably not even the month after.” David’s eyes widened, and then he glared and started chewing furiously. “Between the house payments and the store’s decrease in foot traffic, we just don’t have the money.” 

David finished eating. “What the fuck are you talking about? Of course we have money!” 

Patrick pressed his lips together. This was what he was afraid of. He was hoping against hope that David had already come to this realization himself, but knew that he didn’t look too closely into their finances. “No, we don’t. Trust me, I’ve run the numbers so many times.”

David wiped his mouth with a napkin and violently shook his head. Before Patrick could say anything else, David stood up and grabbed his arm. “Come with me for a second.”

“David, wha-”

“Just come here!” David dragged him to their bedroom, and Patrick wondered idly, whether David was planning on sacrificing him to appease the Honeymoon Gods. Instead of pulling out a knife, David just plopped Patrick down on their bed, and grabbed his laptop from the nightstand. He made himself comfortable next to Patrick, before opening the laptop and logging into their bank account. 

“Okay, look at this, right there.” David pointed at the screen.

Patrick leaned closer and squinted. “Okay, yeah, that’s your savings account. Your point being?” 

David shook his head again, “No dummy, look at the account name.” 

Patrick read it out loud. “ _Beach Time, Bitches_? Is that supposed to mean something to me?” 

“Okay, Alexis named that. But, Patrick, this isn’t my savings account. It’s the money I’ve been saving up for our honeymoon.” Patrick blinked, and then looked at that number again. It had a _lot_ of zeroes.

“That’s…how, David?” He looked back up at him in shock. 

It was David’s turn to look embarrassed. He fiddled around with his hands a bit and then said, “Okay, so I was originally gonna surprise you, but you seem really stressed about our honeymoon so I might as well tell you now.” He took a deep breath and said, “I took up painting again.” 

Patrick brightened. “David, that’s awesome! Is that what you’ve been doing in the basement on your days off?” Patrick had noticed David going down there, but David had explicitly told him to leave him alone, so he did. Patrick had been curious but figured David would tell him in his own time. Although he wasn’t quite sure what this had to do with the sizable amount of money that had appeared in their bank account. 

“It is, yeah. I was a little out of practice at first, but once I got back into it, I got in touch with a couple of my old contacts to see if I could sell anything. A couple of them did end up selling, for a _lot_ more than I expected.” David laughed a little bitterly. “Turns out people love buying my art now that my family is making a comeback.” 

Patrick grabbed one of David’s hands reassuringly. “Sweetheart, I’ve seen some of the sketches in your journal. You’re _good_. I don’t think anyone would be buying ugly art for exorbitant amounts of money, just because it was made by someone famous.” 

David tried to suppress a smile at that, but Patrick knew his husband well enough to recognize what that particular expression meant. “Hey, don’t look at me like that! Am I wrong?” 

David patted his arm, somewhat condescendingly, and said, “Very. I ran an art gallery, remember? But I think it’s cute that you think that.” Patrick bristled a bit, not a fan of being talked down to, but then David started absent-mindedly running a hand through his hair. It felt _very_ good, so Patrick decided to let it slide, just this once. 

David continued, “And yeah, I’m an excellent painter, they don’t just give out MFAs to anyone. But I’m fully aware that name recognition is the reason why my work is selling for so much, and I’m coming to terms with that. It’s funny, because I never cared much about it, before.”

Patrick nodded, still wrapping his head around this. He knew David had stopped painting when he came to Schitt’s Creek, as he’d forgotten to pack his art materials in the sheer panic of being kicked out of his home, and didn’t have any money to buy more. The long period of depression and heightened anxiety that came with being ripped out of his old life and being shoved into a new one probably didn’t help with his creativity, either. 

“Why did you start now?” Patrick asked, curiously. 

David looked at the ceiling. “I think,” he said slowly, “I finally feel safe enough, comfortable enough, to show the world that side of me, again?” He huffed and gestured around at the walls of their bedroom. “Look at me. I’m in what’s basically Rosehill cottage, running a moderately successful business with the love of my life, the man who _chose_ to marry me, my _husband_.” David smiled at him, a clear, joyful smile that only Patrick was privy to. Patrick pressed himself closer to David, almost drawn to him like a magnet. “I never expected to have anything like this, not in my wildest dreams. How else am I supposed to express the emotions this invokes in me, if not through art?” 

Patrick blinked. “That was… surprisingly beautiful.” 

“Thank you, I contain multitudes.” 

“Oh, I’m well aware.” Patrick shook his head, realizing they had gotten sidetracked from their main conversation. “Wait, so we _do_ have enough money to go on our honeymoon?” 

“Yep!” David side-eyed Patrick. “I’m a little bit offended that you assumed that you were the only one saving up for it.” 

“Well,” Patrick fumbled. “Three days ago, you did tell me you’d _literally die_ if you didn’t buy the Rick Owens sweater you found for sale on eBay.”

David looked affronted. “Okay, first of all, that sweater was basically brand new and at half price. Do you have any idea what a good deal it was?” Patrick just looked back at him, amused. “Second, I _have_ been saving, I only bought three articles of clothing in the past six months, and all of them were _way_ under my budget.”

Patrick let out a sarcastic noise, but inside, he was almost overwhelmed with the depth of his emotions. An hour ago, he had been trying to figure out how he was going to tell his husband that he’d failed him, and now David was telling him he’d been working and saving money so that they could go on their honeymoon. He really couldn’t have asked for a more perfect husband. 

“Hey,” Patrick said, placing David’s arms around him, so he could snuggle into him better. “Thank you. You saved our honeymoon.” 

David wrinkled his nose. “Don’t _thank_ me, this was a purely selfish endeavor.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that, David.” Patrick looked down at his hands and admitted, “I really thought I had ruined everything.”

“Patrick.” David sighed. “You don’t have to do everything alone. You know that, right?”

Patrick nodded. David hugged him tighter and said, “We’re a team, got it?” 

“Got it.” Patrick basked in the moment for a second and then asked, “So, when you say we’re a team, does that mean you’ll let me eat half of the cheesecake you’ve been hiding from me in the-”

“No!” 

* * *

“Patrick, may I borrow your laptop? I wanted to add a couple more resorts to your spreadsheet.” 

Patrick hummed his assent and went back to cleaning the stove. It wasn’t his favorite chore, but it certainly beat-

“Patrick, what the fuck is this? Why the fuck were you looking up strip clubs??” Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fucking shit. He’d forgotten to close that tab.

Patrick ran out of the kitchen and held up his hands, “This is not what it looks like, I swear I can explain-”

To his surprise, David started laughing. “You do realize that this is a female strip club? As in they only hire female strippers? And while I agree that that’s highly heteronormative, I don’t think your application was going to be the one to change their mind.”

Patrick walked closer to look at the screen, “So, I didn’t see that-” 

“It says _we only hire women_ right there!” David said, punctuating his statement by pointing at the screen. 

“Okay, well-”

“Did you really think you’d make a good stripper?” David had tears in his eyes from laughing, which was _incredibly_ rude. “Have you seen your thighs?” David doubled over, holding his stomach. 

Patrick crossed his arms and glared. “Are you done yet?” 

“Not at all! And while I enjoyed all the dancing you did at Cabaret, it took months for you to learn it. Did you really expect to-” David cut off as Patrick walked over to him, swaying his hips.

Patrick bracketed David in and stared at him with heat in his eyes. “You know, I'd been thinking of giving you a private show.”

David stared back at him, open-mouthed. “Um, _yes_ please.”

“But you insulted me like four times, so I think that moment has passed.” With that, Patrick booped his nose and walked away back into the kitchen. David looked like Patrick had kicked a puppy in front of him. 

“Patrick, wait, no, come back!” David whined, but Patrick ignored him. A little bit of denial would be good for his soul. 

**Author's Note:**

> Any feedback would be highly appreciated!


End file.
